Having thus gratified my curiosity, the old gentleman began to discover his own, in questions relating to myself, to which I thought proper to return ambiguous answers. “I presume, Sir,” said he, “you have travelled.” I answered, “Yes.” “I dare say you have found it very expensive,” said he. I replied, “To be sure, one cannot travel without money.” “That I know by experience,” said he, “for I myself take a trip to Bath or Tunbridge every season; and one must pay sauce for what he has on the road, as well in other countries as in this. That’s a pretty stone in your ring—give me leave, sir—the French have attained to a wonderful skill in making compositions of this kind. Why, now, this looks almost as well as a diamond.” “Almost as well, Sir!” said I, “Why not altogether? I am sure if you understand anything of jewels, you must perceive, at first sight, that this stone is a real diamond, and that of a very fine water. Take it in your hand and examine it.” He did so with some confusion, and returned it, saying, “I ask your pardon; I see it is a true brilliant of immense value.” I imagined his respect to me increased after this inquiry; therefore to captivate his esteem the more, I told him, I would show him a seal of composition, engraved after a very valuable antique; upon which I pulled out my watch with a rich gold chain, adorned with three seals set in gold, and an opal ring. He viewed each of them with great eagerness, handled the chain, admired the chased case, and observed that the whole must have cost me a vast sum of money. I affected indifference, and replied in a careless manner, “Some trifle of sixty or seventy guineas.” He stared in my face for some time, and then asked if I was an Englishman? I answered in the negative. “You are from Ireland then, Sir, I presume,” said he. I made the same reply. “Oh! perhaps,” said he “you were born in one of our settlements abroad.” I still answered No. He seemed very much surprised, and said, he was sure I was not a foreigner. I made no reply, but left him upon the tenter-hooks of impatient uncertainty. He could not contain his anxiety, but asked pardon for the liberties he had taken and, to encourage me the more to disclose my situation, displayed his own without reserve. “I am,” said he, “a single man, have a considerable annuity, on which I live according to my inclination, and make the ends of the year meet very comfortably. As I have no estate to leave behind, I am not troubled with the importunate officiousness of relations or legacy hunters, and I consider the world as made for me, not me for the world. It is my maxim, therefore, to enjoy it while I can, and let futurity shift for itself.”